Snowfall (10 page)

Annie's eyes widened before she carefully concealed her feelings again. “I thought you'd be happy I was gone.”

Lovina joined her on the steps, thinking as she bent down that her knees sure didn't work the way they used to.

“I'm glad you decided to talk to me. I feared the cat got your tongue.”

“It wasn't that.”

“I figured as much,” she said lightly. “You know, I imagine you're feeling a mite awkward, being here in Ohio when you were used to being in Belize and all, but I hope you know that you're a welcome addition.”

“You don't have to say that. I know you don't want company.”

“I don't like my granddaughter surprising us like she did,” Lovina corrected. “You may not know this about Viola, but she's an impatient person. She always has been. Actually, our Viola has a bad habit of doing things without considering the consequences. Personally, I think it's something she should work on.”

Annie darted a look at her, obviously realizing that Lovina wasn't joking, and smiled softly. And just like that, her dark brown eyes lit with warmth and good humor.

Feeling like they'd come to an agreement of sorts, Lovina lifted the mug of hot chocolate she'd set on the porch. “Do you like hot chocolate?”

“I do.”

“
Gut
. Then drink some.”

Obediently, Annie sipped. “It's
gut
.”

“It is,” Lovina replied, because that was the truth.

As she settled on the step, wishing she'd put on a cloak before coming outside, Lovina enjoyed the moment of silence. It looked like Annie there had the right idea. Sometimes words were not needed.

They really weren't needed at all.

My teacher said I should have a pretty
gut
Christmas, because I only got in trouble fifteen times during the whole month of November
.

Thomas, Age 8

For most of Ruth's life, December had been the longest month of the year. Whatever relatives she'd been living with had been occupied with lots of family gatherings and all kinds of preparations. Ruth had baked cookies and cakes right beside them.

Sometimes, she'd even gotten swept up into the joy of the season, enjoying the decorated storefronts, the lights on the Englischers' houses, the excited chatter of children.

But coinciding with all the festivities was the knowledge that Christmas Day would probably not be a joyous one for her. Her parents weren't there to give her hugs, she didn't have traditions to grasp hold of and to excitedly re-create year after year.

So she would exist on the outskirts of the joy. Being a part of things but not really a participant in them. And when Christmas Day did come, she would feel even more alone and disenchanted, because no matter what group of relatives she was with, she always felt like a burden.

But this year, December was passing by in a flash.

That morning when she woke up she'd realized that she'd already been going to the Rhodeses' house for a whole week. And though she was still spending time with a family not her own, with a family that would never be her own, the children didn't make her feel like that at all.

Actually, usually one or more of them would be peering out the dining room window when she arrived. They'd wave at her with bright smiles when she'd look their way.

She was greeted with hugs and chatter and, well, happiness. And, because there was no one to see, she ate up their enthusiasm like she was starved for it. Maybe she was.

They'd decorated cards and spent one whole afternoon playing Christmas Bingo for pieces of candy. Another afternoon, they'd played Candy Land. She'd baked cookies with them and read
A Christmas Carol
and then all kinds of silly Christmas picture books she'd found at the library.

She and Martin started talking a bit more, too. Oh, they didn't talk about anything of substance, of course. But their conversations were friendly and easy. Little by little, they began to joke and tease. Finding lots of humor in the antics of his busy, sometimes rambunctious children.

And, though he probably didn't realize it, each day they talked a little bit longer. It was nice. Really nice.

Overcome by the Christmas spirit, she'd decided to celebrate by helping the
kinner
send out Christmas cards. The project would keep them all occupied for a few hours and serve another purpose, too. It would remind her that the season was what she made of it. She could either dwell on unhappy memories or remind herself that she had much to be grateful for.

Even if it was only helping six children remember that they were a family although their mother was in heaven and their father worked all the time. They were a family no matter what.

And that was something Ruth knew they would one day be grateful for.

“Do you think Daed is gonna be upset when he sees what we're doing, Ruth?” Katrina asked when she was switching out her red marker for a blue one.

“All we're doing is making Christmas cards. There is nothing wrong with that. Nearly everyone I know sends out cards.”

Katrina still looked doubtful. “But you've got out my
mamm
's old list. My
daed
doesn't like us disturbing her things.”

“I didn't go through her things, I simply happened to see it when I was flipping through her book of Christmas recipes.”

“But we're not supposed to touch those, either.”

The children looked so concerned, Ruth stood up. “How about this? As soon as your father gets back I'll talk to him.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She was just about to start on supper when she happened to glance Gregory's way. And noticed that his cheeks were flushed.

“Gregory?” she murmured as she reached his side. “Are you all right?”

Glassy-looking eyes rose to meet hers. “I feel like I'm getting sick.”

“Uh-oh. Come into the kitchen and we'll take your temperature.”

Five minutes later, the worries about disturbing Grace Rhodes's Christmas list was the least of her troubles. Not only did Gregory have a low fever and a stuffy nose and watery eyes, he also had a blister near his collar bone. And another on his back.

Struggling to keep her voice calm, Ruth said, “When did you get these spots?”

He shrugged. “I found 'em this morning.”

“Ah. Do they itch or hurt?”

“Itch. Why?”

“I'm afraid you might have the chicken pox,” she whispered.

“Chicken pox!” he yelled.

Which, of course, set all the children to come running. In a flash, they had surrounded Gregory and were by turns inspecting his two spots, spouting advice, and—in Thomas's case—looking a tad bit jealous.

She'd just clapped her hands to try to restore order when Martin opened the back door.

“What's going on?” he asked as he took in the chaos.

“Gregory has chicken pox,” Brigit said importantly.

“Surely not.”

“It's not my fault!” Gregory whined. “It just happened.”

“Now, now,” Ruth said, curving a hand around Gregory's shoulders. “No need to get upset. But I do think, perhaps, you should go put on your pajamas. I'll bring you some juice in a minute.”

“But what about my Christmas cards?”

Martin stilled. “What Christmas cards?”

“Ruth found Mamm's old list and she is going to send everyone a card,” Katrina said importantly.

“Definitely not.”

Katrina's eyes turned wide. “But we've already made lots of them.”

“That doesn't matter.”

“But it does!” Katrina retorted. “Ruth said people are wondering what has happened to us.”

Martin turned to Ruth, his eyes serious.

“We need to talk. Now.”

“Yes. I think that is a very good idea.” Turning to the five remaining children, she smiled softly. “How about you all clean up for me and then go sit with Gregory so he doesn't feel lonely?”

“But what about—” Thomas sputtered.

She cut him off. “Go on up, Thomas. All of you.”

When the children were out of the room, Martin sank to one of the kitchen chairs and leaned his head back. “How certain are you that Gregory has the chicken pox?”

Ruth settled down in the chair across from him.

“Not a hundred percent sure, but I can't imagine what else he could have. He has two blisters and a low-grade fever.”

Martin sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Every time I think I've got a handle on things, the Lord sees fit to prove me wrong.”

“I don't know if it's the Lord's doing,” she said gently. “I think it's just Gregory's time to get chicken pox.”

“Ruth, if Gregory gets sick, they all will.” His voice thickened with despair. “They're all going to be sick at Christmas and I won't be able to do a thing to help them because I've got to keep the business going.”

“It will be all right.”

He shook his head. “I know you mean well, but you can't possibly know what's coming. The kids told me how you grew up as an only child. I doubt you have any concept about what it means to be surrounded by so many kids, all needing one thing or another.”

“You're right. I've never felt helpless and like there wasn't a single thing I could do to change things,” she bit out, every word laced with pain.

He jerked his head and stared at her. Then, as it was altogether obvious that he'd caught the tinge of pain in her voice, he looked away. “Sorry. I know you've probably experienced some difficult days, but I'm feeling more than a little frustrated right now.”

She shouldn't have expected him to understand what her life had been like. But though she'd surely never experienced the death of a spouse—she couldn't even begin to imagine what that had been like for him—she did, in fact, understand what it felt like to be overwhelmed by life. She'd also experienced the feeling of being weighed down and having no choice but to continue on.

She chose her words with care, staring at her hands folded in front of her. “Perhaps instead of thinking of everything that is hard, we could think of blessings.”

He stilled. “Blessings?”

“
Jah
.” With a small smile she said, “Though your
kinner
might soon be covered in chicken pox, you do have six of them. That is a blessing. Ain't so?”

He stiffened, then, to her relief, the corners of his lips tipped up. “That is true.”

“They are
gut
kinner
.
Wonderful-gut
kinner
, Martin. And they'll get through these Christmas chicken pox.” Thinking about what might be in store for them, she teased, “It might not be easy but we'll get through it together.”

He looked at her, blinked.

And then, to her shock, he murmured the most incredible thing in the world. “Maybe you are more than I realized, Ruth. Maybe you are far more than either of us has ever imagined.”

Though she didn't know exactly what he meant, the words were so beautiful, so loving and kind, so much everything she'd always hoped she'd one day hear but never expected to, it rendered her speechless.

At the moment, she was beyond doing anything but savoring the moment. Just for a little while.

What had he been thinking?

Staring into Ruth's blue eyes, Martin couldn't believe he'd just said something so personal. He thought he would have been smarter than that.

Feeling his cheeks heat, he inhaled. “I am sorry, Ruth. I don't know why I said such a thing. I didn't mean any disrespect.”

“I didn't take offense,” she said quickly.

He met her eyes again. No, she didn't look offended. Instead, she looked confused. Maybe a little flustered.

Actually, she looked a bit stunned.

And why shouldn't she? Here she'd been trying to help him, and right in the middle of their discussion, he'd let loose a fireball like that. It had been inappropriate.

Had he been so focused on his children and their needs and his troubles that he'd completely forgotten what it was like to be thoughtful of others?

His mouth went dry as he stared at her longer. It was obvious that she was aware of his scrutiny, but she didn't shy away. No, she had more of a backbone than he'd originally thought.

It ignited the tension between them. Illuminated the fact that she was prettier than he'd first realized. Her blue eyes were bluer, her curly dark hair shinier. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, her bearing softer and more feminine than he'd first imagined.

He was also realizing that she was easier to be around than he had anticipated. Almost
too
easy to be around.

The direction of his thoughts caught him off guard. Being aware of her as a woman was the very last thing on earth he needed. It wasn't right. It wasn't right to her, him, Grace's memory, or even the kids.

He needed to nip those feelings in the bud. No good would ever come out of his thinking about her as a woman.

“Um, what I meant was that I value your service.”

She tucked her chin. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

He felt so awkward. So foolish. “What I am trying to say is that for someone who claimed she didn't have any experience working with children, you've done a
gut
job.”

“
Danke
.”

“Why, you've practically worked wonders in this house! They really like being with you. Very much so.” Thinking about all the conversations that started with “Ruth said this” and “Ruth thinks that,” Martin knew saying his children were going to miss her was something of an understatement.

“What would you like to do about Gregory? I fear he's going to feel worse before he gets better.”

Martin figured Ruth had a point. He also had a sneaking suspicion that at least one more of the children was going to come down with the chicken pox, too. “What would you think about staying with us?” he blurted. “Until things get better?”